


Manual Labour

by improfem



Series: (In)Human Resources [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Dagon has a Vulva, Friends With Benefits, Other, Semi-Public Sex, They/Them Pronouns for Dagon (Good Omens), Vaginal Fingering, Who knows what Beelzebub has, Ze/Zir Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), fly genitalia were only googled very quickly, or coworkers with benefits I guess, referenced past Michael/Beelzebub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23863864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/improfem/pseuds/improfem
Summary: Post botched apocalypse, with a mysterious traitor on the run and a boss out of the picture, Beelzebub and Dagon are left to pick up the pieces of their corporate machine.That amount of stress can get to a demon, so it's a good thing they can turn to each other for a bit of relief.
Relationships: Beelzebub/Dagon (Good Omens)
Series: (In)Human Resources [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719736
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	Manual Labour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Langerhan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Langerhan/gifts).



> Notes:  
> Happy birthday, friend!  
> I genuinely hope this fits your request of happy demons, they certainly don’t start out that happy but I like to think that they make things a lot better for each other. I, for one, hope they take over Hell as the next power couple to watch out for!
> 
> Also, I hope you’re not super weirded out by the background Beezebub/Michael, I took a chance there and took this as an opportunity to finally put into writing an idea I’ve been playing with for a while. (Ok, ever since you gifted me that fantastic Michael fic, so that’s on you. ;-) 
> 
> Prequel exploring their relationship will be around shortly, but I kept the references here short, just in case that ship is not your thing.

Considering the massive events of the past few hours, Hell is almost disappointingly calm. Granted, it’s the usual, groaning pipes and screeching souls of the damned kind of calm, but after the uproar following the traitor’s trial, things have returned seemingly to normal. Of course, Beelzebub’s desk is a different story. The thing is, while the misplaced boy did a fine job rearranging humans’ memories and bringing things back to normal on Earth, his powers were a bit glitchy down here.

The souls of hundreds of humans, killed by the approaching apocalypse, have suddenly been pulled back to earth, and their owners are none the wiser. The fact that their torture is still on the books, even though it effectively never took place… well, that’s for Beelzebub to sort out now. Along with the fact that a previously permanently discorporated demon has returned in full corporation,  _ after _ his position has been filled. The ranks of Hell may seem like complete mayhem to outsiders, but from where Beelzebub is standing, having two dukes of Hell assigned to the same position is just a headache waiting to happen.

The Antichrist has been on Earth as a normal human child for 72 hours, and Beelzebub has been pulling zir hair over his mistakes for the past 44 of them.

“Let it go. You don’t have to sort it all tonight.  _ He _ certainly doesn’t care.”

Dagon looks just as tired as Beelzebub feels, and then some. No wonder, while Beelzebub has been concerned with fixing the administrative nightmare this whole fiasco has left behind, they’ve been running around putting an army of infuriated demons back in their place. Sure, most of them are too terrified now to go after the traitor, but that hasn’t stopped them from coming up with plans to overrun earth, and drag all those souls they’ve lost back with them. Diplomatic nightmare, that would be, and all while the boss is out of commission.

Ze leans back in zir chair, and rubs zir face energetically, but only manages to blur zir sight further. With a defeated sigh, ze looks up to Dagon, who is still slumped against the door frame.

“Got any better ideazzz?”

The metallic scales on their face seem dull and scratched now, and a few strands of hair have fallen into their eyes.

“I’m going to take a bath. No reason we can’t indulge a little just because we didn’t get to flood anything with the blood of the innocent.”

Well, that actually does sound tempting. And who is ze to say no to a bit of temptation.

“Go ahead, I’ll be right there. I just need to finish thizzz.”

* * *

By the time ze gets to the sulphuric springs, Dagon is already submerged in frothing, bubbling water, a couple of minor non-humanoid demons working a pumice stone over their shoulders. They look like at least five layers of stress washed off them, with plenty more to go.

Ze slides into the water slowly, ignoring the indignant flutter on zir head when a few drops of water splash up and hit the fly perched on zir head. Beelzebub has never been able to find out what they put into this spring to make it feel so refreshing, but ze’s always had a strong suspicion that it is some mixture of bleach and undiluted envy. Whatever it is, it burns deliciously, and for a few minutes, ze just leans back, and enjoys the soothing background noise of dripping water and distant human shrieks.

“Exzzzzellent idea, thizz is just what I needed. So, how did things go on your end?”

Dagon opens their eyes a fraction, and smirks in a way Beelzebub would reprimand if they were in the company of anyone significant. As it is, ze is prepared to let it slide. They’ve been through a lot together, and if the boss’ disappearance is anything to go by, they’ll be managing much more before things return to normal.

“Oh, you know.” Dagon’s voice is a lazy drawl, almost as heavy as their eyelids which are already drooping closed again. “None of them were happy to go back to work, but I convinced them it’ll be much more rewarding to wait for the next big one. Take their anger out on some actual angels instead of humans who won’t be able to put up a fight.”

Beelzebub nods. Couldn’t have been fun, but ze’s never doubted that Dagon would manage. It’s always good to know who you can rely on, especially in times like this.

“Now they’re mostly gossiping over how the traitor pulled off that stunt with the holy water. You’d think they’re terrified enough to leave that alone until we have more intelligence, but I suppose as long as it keeps them busy…”

Ze grunts, and motions for one of the bath attendants, who promptly get to work, filing and polishing the nails on zir outstretched hand.

“Busy is what we want, for the time being. We may want to steer them a different way as soon as thingzzz have settled a bit, but let them have their fun. Any theoriezzz we might want to follow up on?”

Dagon snorts. They wave away their attendants, and hold their nose while submerging fully into the water, only to reemerge a moment later, sputtering and smiling.

“For now, seems like the most popular theory is that he fucked the angel, and that gave him immunity.”

Beelzebub freezes. Zir own history of indiscretion flashes before zir mental eye, and more than ever, ze’s glad for the dim lighting and steam surrounding them. If there’s some lingering heat on zir face, surely Dagon won’t be able to tell it apart from whatever passes as normal when soaking in a hot spring.

“Doubtful.”

Dagon grins their familiar, sharp-toothed grin, and something about it is both unsettlingly close to Beelzebub’s memories of Michael, and yet light years away. There’s the same ruthless energy behind it, but it makes a world of difference to know that they wouldn’t  _ actually _ want to tear you limb from limb if given half a chance.

“Could be, we don’t know what those two got up to. Not sure I want to either. Can you imagine? With an  _ angel _ ?”

Beelzebub snorts in a way ze hopes is both noncommittal and derisive, and turns around to present zir back to the bath attendant, who promptly begins to scrub it with a wet towel. Ze sighs at the feeling of dead skin cells being rubbed away, and bone-deep exhaustion draining out of zir body.

One day, there may come a day when ze feels like revealing the full history of zir relationship with Michael to Dagon, probably over considerable amounts of alcohol. It would definitely make for a good story. And, who is ze kidding, retelling how ze had to call zir former hookup to procure holy water for a botched execution will be hilarious. Some day. Right now, with the idea of renegade demons and their angel lovers still so fresh and unsolved, it doesn’t seem like the topic for conversation.

Dagon must have picked up on zir unwillingness to further discuss the possibility of Crowley’s aberrant sex life, and swims up to settle themself on the rocks next to where Beelzebub is leaning. They’re both silent for a while, paddling lazily in the water, and Beelzebub considers offering a change of venue, but before ze can come up with a plan, Dagon speaks up again.

“Still, doesn’t mean that humans aren’t on to something with their fornication deal, huh? Supposedly a great stress reliever. Ever tried it?”

Beelzebub can’t help but smirk at the conversational turn, and opens zir eyes to take in Dagon’s eager expression. They’re pleasant to look at, ze’s always thought so, but ze never felt the need to go down that road. Still, they’ve done many things in the past few hours ze’s never seen coming. This could really hit the spot.

“I have. Izzz this a request?”

Dagon’s grin pulls wider, the sharp blades of their teeth glinting even in the low light.

“Wouldn’t put it that way. More of an invitation, maybe.”

Ze’s suddenly much more aware of the water bubbling against zir skin, tiny pockets of air catching on fine body hair, and popping with each gentle wave. It was hot to begin with, but something between them seems to have raised the temperature, and almost subconsciously, ze leans toward zir companion, draped across the rocks like a lazy, sunbathing salamander.

“You know I’m technically your superior. Not exactly in the corporate manual, your behaviour.”

They both break into a laugh at that. The moldy brick of leather and paper hasn’t served a purpose except as a door stopper for Beelzebub’s office in a long, long time. To be precise, not since they got it. Their bodies drift closer with an easy motion, almost too natural for something they’ve never explored or discussed. It should be confusing, but as Dagon’s hand brushes up zir thigh, all Beelzebub feels is a sudden flare of want and nostalgia, because, yes, fuck, this, ze remembers this.

For all its complications, what ze had with Michael touched at something deep and visceral inside zir, something that left zir soaked in satisfaction and thirsty for more. There were other things, sure, messy and complicated and even unpleasant, and after calling things quits, ze hasn’t exactly felt the desire to go down that path with anyone else. It’s not like ze has a biological, inbuilt drive for it. But now that it’s back, ze sure can’t wait to get zir fill of it again.

The bath attendants have drifted back, bobbing on the water some distance away and obviously uncertain if their services are still wanted, or if Dagon and Beelzebub would like some privacy. Ze raises a hand to gesture at them, but Dagon is faster. 

At least, that has to be what’s behind the ring of fire suddenly roaring to life around them, licking at their paddling feet and then spreading outward to give them more space. Behind the wall of flames, Beelzebub can hear the squeals and grumbles of the minor demons, less resistant to infernal fire than the two of them. Dramatic little shits, they’ll be fine. Probably. It’s not holy water. And anyway, Beelzebub has more interesting things to concern zirself with. 

Ze pulls closer to Dagon, one hand on their hip, and pauses, indecisive about where to start. It feels good just to touch their skin, feel the smooth glide of it under zir hand, the miniscule dip of Dagon’s waist before their body flows up into their ribcage, and the swell of bone where it starts. Despite their apparent inexperience, Dagon shows no such restraint. Now that they’ve established where this is going, their hands land easily on Beelzebub’s shoulders, and their fingers fan out to cradle zir neck. They pull zir closer, and before ze has time to think it through, Beelzebub has leaned in, and pressed zir lips to the thin line of Dagon’s mouth. 

Dagon’s response is enthusiastic and instantaneous. Their fingers tighten on Beelzebub’s neck and press against zir muscles, cramped from days of anticipation and stress. A pleasant rumble rises in Dagon’s ribcage and through their throat. Beelzebub could swear ze feels the movement of teeth rearranging themselves before Dagon’s lips open up, and a long tongue slides out to lick along the curve of zir mouth. 

Oh, that’s good, that’s… alright, ze’s fairly certain this is outside most definitions of kissing. Dagon’s tongue is winding over zir chin and cheeks, carefully stroking zir boils, and before ze can even make up zir mind if ze has any objections to this business, a moan escapes zir. Well then. Fuck those definitions. And for that matter… fucking someone with a tongue like that presents some interesting possibilities. But ze’s getting ahead of zirself. 

Instead, ze remembers what ze was doing, and pushes zir hand high enough to trace the outline of one tiny breast, to slide along the curve of smooth, metallic scales there. Dagon gasps, and breathes harder when ze devotes some time to sliding zir fingers between the scaly patches, running zir nails over their sensitive edges. 

“Fuck… yes, keep doing that, feels good.”

Beelzebub gives what ze hopes is a wicked and self-assured grin, and draws up zir other hand to rest on Dagon’s back. Meanwhile, ze resumes zir attentions to their breast, only pausing occasionally to pinch the nipple, which only just breaks the water and glistens invitingly between them. Dagon is moaning hungrily now, and Beelzebub isn’t sure what’s more of a turn on: this obvious enthusiasm or the way their hands are scrambling to reciprocate every touch, skating across zir back and scraping across it in long, fiery lines. 

Eventually, ze draws zir hand back, because their heated reaction is too enticing not to investigate what effect ze’s having on other parts of Dagon’s anatomy. Beelzebub hasn't the remotest idea of exactly what parts ze'll uncover, but with a sudden jolt of arousal, ze knows ze can't wait to find out. Clearly oblivious to what ze is planning, Dagon gives an offended little noise, head tipping back and chest arching to press back into Beelzebub’s touch. 

Now that the thought has occured to zir, though, ze won’t be deterred from further exploration. As decisively as ze can manage while still floating in the water, ze presses Dagon back against the rocks, and bends down to draw their nipple into zir mouth. At the same time, zir hand slides lower, between Dagon’s thighs, and is immediately rewarded with more breathy noises and a few stifled words in an ancient language.

Zir fingers are met with soft folds, and a promising slickness that has nothing to do with their bath. Immediately, Dagon’s thighs spread wider, and allow zir to press deeper. Three fingers curled back and out of the way, Beelzebub slides the remaining two along the plush outer folds, just capturing the fluid that seeps out between them, and spreads it across Dagon’s smooth, almost hairless skin. 

Ze’s too distracted now to keep up any sort of satisfying attention to Dagon’s breast, and besides, ze needs to see what effect zir hand is having. Needs to drink this in, as greedy for a reaction as ze is to be touched zirself. Dagon’s eyes have half drifted shut, ze notes when ze looks up into their face, and the scales on their cheeks have taken on a darker, almost golden hue. The image sends a complicated heat through zir. 

_ Hell of a way to blush _ , ze thinks, and immediately groans internally. Whoever introduced bad puns into Hell deserves to be put on filing duty. Good thing there’s plenty here to distract zir from nonsense like that. 

With one searching finger, ze glides between Dagon’s labia and teases at their entrance, at which zir companion’s mouth drops open with a satisfying gasp. They take zir finger easily, especially after Beelzebub uncurls zir thumb, and finds the swollen nub at the join of Dagon’s folds. A little bit of pressure there, and the thighs to either side of zir tense, and draw closer around zir, nudging zir deeper. 

Something’s working behind Dagon’s face, some reaction or request, but they’re apparently too preoccupied to put it into words. Beelzebub can take a guess, though, and when zir second finger slides in and Dagon immediately clenches around it, ze finds that zir theory probably had something going for it. 

Dagon’s hips are rocking against zir now, and ze pushes zir hand higher, grasping for a hold in the long hair that flows around the other demon’s shoulders, free from the tight braid in which they usually wear it. This draws another moan from Dagon, long and low, and Beelzebub feels encouraged to grip just a little tighter, move zir fingers a fraction faster inside them. Dagon’s weight is beginning to feel heavy on zir shoulders, a heady mass of flesh pressing against zir, gasping and twitching for release. 

And then, faster than ze anticipated, they tip over the edge: Beelzebub’s thumb presses against Dagon’s clit just a little bit harder, and the muscles around zir hips seize up, the points of Dagon’s teeth burrow into their bottom lip. The other demon’s body contracts around zir fingers, and Beelzebub watches in fascination as a trickle of blood runs from their lip. Their face ripples through waves of pleasure, unfeeling or uncaring of the wound they’re inflicting on themself. 

Beelzebub strokes them through it with soft touches, the hand in Dagon’s hair now more of a gentle support than a firm grip, and when Dagon finally opens their eyes, ze feels breathless for a moment. 

There’s something incredible under the surface of that familiar face, both satiated calm and hungry anticipation, and Beelzebub feels struck with it. 

Until Dagon breaks the silence. 

“There’s one theory tested. Can hardly feel my stress anymore, should we do something about yours?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a bunch to [Gorillazgal86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gorillazgal86/pseuds/Gorillazgal86) for catching my missing and superfluous words, suggesting replacements for phrases that didn't fit, and asking questions about the characters and their motivations to help me get a feel for this unfamiliar ship!


End file.
